One of the first things you discover when you are born is that your parents are more competent than you are. They can walk, talk and generally take care of themselves with apparent ease. To some degree, this relative ineptitude continues throughout childhood.

When I started AikidoThe word "Aikido" is made up of three japanese characters: ai - harmony, ki - spirit, mind, or universal energy, do - the way. Thus Aikido is "the way of harmony with universal energy." with my children, the playing field was leveled. We had the opportunity to fumble together at something new to all of us.

I brought my family to Aikido at the same time as my third daughter, Sophia, was born. This coincidence has been a convenient milestone in recollecting how long we have been practicing, and it was the beginning of a six-year connection between my family and BCA. I find it a little surprising now that I was comfortable bringing my 7 and 9 year olds into such a physically challenging environment, but I am glad that I was mostly blind to the risks at the time. My boldness as a parent has been rewarded with compassionate teaching and caring by the entire community.

Susannah found a different path (she has returned and left several times over the past few years), but Amelia has continued to study Aikido with increasing enthusiasm. We have progressed together and have mostly tested for new rank together. I have come to rely on her preparation to guide me with my own. We once spent a train ride to Chicago going over our yonkyu requirements in a cramped cabin. Unable to move more than half a step, we relied heavily on our conviction that thinking and visualizing Aikido was nearly as good practice as actually doing it.

Our last test was my second attempt at ikkyu and Amelia’s first. Of course, I was focused on my own performance, but alas, my focus failed to prevent a minor but dramatic injury to my face that interrupted the test for a short time. After some ministrations to my wound, SenseiTeacher; anyone who gives guidance along the way; literally "born before" asked Amelia if she wanted to resume her test and she agreed. Having achieved enough internal balance to know that I wasn’t going to be able to continue myself, I fretted at the future annoyance of having to prepare for this test yet a third time. But as the blood clotted and I relaxed, I was able to turn my attention outward to watch
Amelia finish her test. Radiating poise and confidence, she moved powerfully through each technique. I was proud, but more, I was struck by how grown-up she appeared. I was also floored by what an impressive grown-up she made.

At the beginning of training we say “Onegai Shimasu” to our partner. It is a humble entreaty to accept the other as both a partner and as a teacher. Typically, we alternate between the one doing the technique (nage"Thrower"; defender; the person applying a technique) and the one receiving it (uke). In either role, we can both learn and instruct. The moment of asking “Onegai Shimasu” is like the moment when you meet your child for the first time. You are both embarking on a mutually instructive journey.

From the day we first bowed in six years ago until today, I have learned many things in Aikido. Most importantly, I have learned to accept the trading of roles with my daughters, to be uke"Receiver"; the person providing the attack and falling to their nage. I am reminded to be grateful after every class when Amelia bows to me and says, “Thank you, Daddy.”